Thirty Days of Pride
by desertredwolf
Summary: Happy Pride month, everyone! Here is a collection of 30 unrelated drabbles — with characters and ships from the worlds of Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them — featuring a variety of sexual orientations and gender identities. Warning: This collection contains a lot of fluff and feel-good emotions. Read at your own risk.
1. Valentine's Day

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **A/N: Happy Pride month, everyone! This collection will contain 30 unrelated drabbles, each featuring different couples/characters/sexual orientations/gender identities. The word count will be about 100-300 words — but for this collection, I'm not going to play by any hard rules. If the word count is a little bit more, I'm not going to care too much.**

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 **Valentine's Day**

Millicent tightly clutched the card, her hands shaking violently. She _hated_ Valentine's Day, and she absolutely _despised_ Lockhart. But if his stupid idea meant that it was more freely accepted to be exchanging Valentine's Day cards, then she wasn't going to complain — _much_.

They were all standing outside the Charms room, waiting for class to start, when she decided it was now or never. Walking up to her crush — _Merlin, she is so pretty!_ — she suddenly broke out into cold sweats.

 _Why is she always talking with Tracey and Pansy?_ Millicent thought in a panic. _Maybe I should wait until she's alone— Crap! No, we already made eye contact. It's too late!_

"You alright, Millicent?" Daphne asked kindly. Pansy was smirking at her, while Tracey just looked amused, in a knowing sort of way.

Millicent honestly meant to reply. She had practiced everything she wanted to say in her head over and over again. Now that she was in the moment, however, her mind had gone blank.

Letting out a strangled screech, she shoved the card into Daphne's hands and promptly fled. Laughter rang in her ears, as she ran down the corridor — Charms class completely forgotten.

As she turned the hallway, however, she caught one last glimpse of the other three Slytherin girls. Tracey was arguing with Pansy, as the other girl continued to shriek with cruel laughter. Daphne, however, was silently reading the card, a small smile on her lips; she was blushing.

Millicent thought that just maybe the embarrassment was worth it.

 _Next time though, I'm using actual words when I talk with her._

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 **A/N 2: These two together are actually one of my favorite rare pairings!**

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): write a drabble about an orientation in the gsd community every day in june. because the world needs more. this means that you can write anything from gay, to bi, to lesbian, to ace, to trans, to everything but straight.

Queer! Millicent Bulstrode (also, Socially Anxious! Millicent)

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 267]


	2. No Pressure

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **No Pressure**

Charlie stared in horror at Tonks; Tonks gazed back at Charlie, a hopeful expression on her face.

Between the two of them, she was always the more ballsy one and would just go for things. And that was saying something, considering he had just received a job offer that morning — one that he planned on accepting — from the Romanian Dragon Preserve. It wasn't a desk job, either.

"Uh, you're asking- you're asking me out?" he said, stumbling over his words. "On a date?"

Merlin, he sounded more like a panicked twelve-year-old boy rather than the seventeen-year-old wizard he was. He really liked Tonks — he had for the last few months. She was smart and talented, and also incredibly funny.

There just wasn't that _spark_ he always heard people talking about.

The thing that worried him was that the "spark" seemed to rarely, if ever, happen to him. When he had dated in the past, it was never there and the relationships would quickly fall apart. The other person would always want more than he was ready to give.

It was almost funny, in an ironic sort of way. His mother always lectured him that he should never pressure a girl, but that never seemed to be the problem; it was always the other way around. _(Charlie didn't think it would ever be an issue either.)_

He wanted more — he knew he did! But he learned that a person can't force feelings and _make_ them happen. The only thing that he could think of was that maybe he just needed to go at a slower pace than most people were comfortable waiting.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Tonks asked, bringing him back to the present. Her tone was teasing, but he could see the worry in her eyes.

"What? No!" he exclaimed. Then the next words just fell out of his mouth.

"It's just that I'm not attracted to you like that!"

Well, _that_ took some explaining and apologizing.

Somehow, Charlie managed to convince Tonks to hear him out. He told her how he felt about her, what happened in his past relationships, and how he was always missing the spark everyone talked about. Her expression had gone from hurt, to confused, to finally understanding.

"So, that's that," he concluded with a heavy sigh, shuffling his feet slightly. He was ready for her to be weirded out or mock him, but he was happily surprised.

 _(Knowing Tonks, he shouldn't have been worried. But fear and anxiety can make people think and do strange things.)_

"Charlie, listen to me," she said, gently taking his hand. He relaxed slightly as he intertwined his fingers with hers. "I like you. You said you like me, just not like sexually."

He froze. Is that what he had meant? The more Charlie thought about it, the more he realized she was right. He _liked_ people, but rarely like that. A weight he hadn't realized was there lifted off his shoulders. Someone else understood what he had been struggling with for years. Maybe Tonks didn't feel the exact same way he did, but she could at least sympathize.

Tonks smiled. "Maybe _stuff_ will happen, maybe it won't," she said.

She overemphasized the word "stuff" and wiggled her eyebrows in what she probably thought was a seductive manner. Charlie laughed out loud, all the bad tension finally gone.

"But I just want to be with you," she continued. "We can work out the details when they crop up — _together_."

"You're okay if we never, you know, kiss or anything?" he asked hesitantly. Tonks nodded.

"I like you and accept you for who you are, Charlie," she replied. Her response had been spoken carefully, as if she was trying to impart importance and the utmost sincerity. "And I'm willing to see where this goes, if you are."

"Thank you," he whispered. "And I would like that very much."

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): write a drabble about an orientation in the gsd community every day in june. because the world needs more. this means that you can write anything from gay, to bi, to lesbian, to ace, to trans, to everything but straight.

Demisexual! Charlie

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 650]


	3. Brighter Than the Sun

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **Brighter Than the Sun**

You idly wonder if it's possible for time to both stand completely still and speed forward faster than it should be capable of, all at the same time. Because every time you look into his eyes, you feel time become infinite.

" _Tell him, honey,"_ your mother had told you, right before you had left on the Express. At first, it had surprised you—your conservative mother supporting you. (And not only that, but also _loudly_ supporting you.) Just like everything else in her life, she didn't do this by half. You remember how you almost cried from joy and relief, when mixed in with the Irish flags that had decorated your tent at the World Cup, she had also proudly displayed rainbow flags.

So lost in your thoughts and feelings—ones that you can't even _possibly_ begin to sort out—you run into _him_. He smiles at you and catches you, as you stumble and almost fall.

Your heart's about to burst from joy and other emotions you can't quite name.

He greets you, and you feel like your name rolls off his tongue in the most pleasant way. And are you going crazy, or does he look more excited than usual to see you?

You take a breath—and then another—before smiling back at him.

"Hey, Dean," you say.

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 **A/N — Why is this in second person? I don't even know. I can't remember the last time I wrote something from this perspective, if ever. Feel free to leave feedback!**

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): write a drabble about an orientation in the gsd community every day in june. because the world needs more. this means that you can write anything from gay, to bi, to lesbian, to ace, to trans, to everything but straight.

Gay! Seamus

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 221]


	4. A Little Bit of Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **A Little Bit of Love**

"You used to date a guy?"

Neville raised an eyebrow at the question. "Yes," he replied slowly. "His name is Dean. I also used to date a woman named Luna. Not at the same time, though."

This date wasn't going according to plan. The woman was sweet, but he tended to run into this problem with pure-bloods. They just couldn't grasp the concept that he liked more than one gender. How on earth was that so confusing to understand?

"If you'll excuse me for one moment," his date stuttered. "I'm just— I'm just going to powder my nose."

And there it was: the moment he had unfortunately been preparing for and anticipating. He plastered a smile on his face. She wasn't even trying to hide the fact that she was gathering her things.

"Of course," he muttered. Then he was abandoned.

Well, he was alone for all of two seconds anyway.

"Finally! She's gone! _Merlin,_ she was a real bitch."

Neville looked up to find himself face-to-face with a grinning Blaise Zabini. Daphne Greengrass was standing next to him, an exasperated expression on her face.

"Blaise, stop it. You're going to scare him," she said, taking his former date's seat across the table. "And we haven't even got to the scary part yet."

"Don't worry, Daph! He's a Gryffindor," Blaise responded. He pulled up an extra chair and sat down. "He'll be fine."

"Hello, Daphne," Neville replied wryly. "Hello, Blaise. Are you going to get straight to the point, or are you going to keep talking in circles?"

Daphne snorted. "I like him, Blaise," she said, a cheeky smile on her face. "Can we keep him?"

"That's the idea," he said. He turned his attention to Neville. "And straight has nothing to do with this. We'll jump right in though, if that's what you want. We overheard you talking to your rather rude date, and how you didn't date Thomas or Lovegood at the same time. Our question is: would you be opposed to it? But with us, not your exes. Obviously."

Neville raised his eyebrows. _That_ wasn't what he had been expecting!

"What Blaise here meant to also say," Daphne added, her voice growing soft, "is that we both have liked you for a while. I mean, how could we not? You are very attractive, Neville."

He blushed. Daphne's eyes seemed to sparkle. Blaise grinned, and Neville thought that they were both so beautiful. They were also surprisingly kind—especially for Slytherins. Then again, out of everyone, he should know that he should leave his expectations at the door.

"So what do you say?"

 _What do I say?_ He only had to think of it for a second because in that moment, Daphne looked worried, even though she tried to hide it. Blaise reached out and took her hand without taking his eyes off Neville. What did he say?

Neville grinned.

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Bisexual! Poly! Neville, Daphne, and Blaise

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 482]


	5. Time to Go to the Library

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **Time to Go to the Library**

Hermione stared out the window, unsure of what to do next. It was nearing the end of the school year, and she was running out of time to make her decision.

Viktor Krum—international Quidditch star and Triwizard competitor—had asked her to be his girlfriend. _Her_ of all people! Not that she thought poorly about herself, of course. (Especially after she had Madam Pomfrey shrink her front teeth during second year. Everyone had something they hated about their appearance, and that had been one of hers.) Viktor also apparently adored her just the way she was; another plus.

The only problem was that she didn't know how she felt about him.

Everyone seemed to be getting together. The Yule Ball only proved that it was something everyone in her year was _constantly_ thinking about. And she just…didn't. That didn't really bother her—her not thinking about dating—but she hated everyone's expectations that she would. There was so much pressure!

She didn't have a word for how she was feeling, but she knew it wasn't wrong. It was just different—and different was okay! But maybe if she could define her emotions better, she would _feel_ better. Suddenly, Hermione perked up.

There was one place that might hold some of the answers she sought. After all, it held a lot of knowledge…

"Uh, Hermione? Are you okay?"

She turned around to find Harry standing near her. The Common Room was empty except for the two of them. There was no time to waste! She quickly packed her things. Harry asked her something else, but she momentarily zoned out as she remembered another important task. She had to also solve the problem that was Rita Skeeter…

"Sorry, Harry," she replied. "I'm fine. But I'm going to the library."

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Ace! Hermione

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 298]


	6. One Hundred Strong

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **A/N — femslash! Queenie/OC [more notes at the bottom]**

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 **One Hundred Strong**

She was in a precarious situation.

It didn't really bother her—not after all the adventures she had been caught up in with her sister and brother-in-law. They had faced down Grindelwald and won. Participating in a Muggle gathering? _That_ should be a walk in the park.

Except she was acutely aware that it wasn't.

She stood on the corner of Christopher Street with about a hundred other people; gay people, like her. It had been a point of contention between her and Tina, whether or not she should attend. Tina made a very convincing argument; it came from a place of love. After all, they were both now in their late seventies. Even for witches, they weren't exactly _young_. But it took just one look in her partner's eyes to know what she would do.

"March," Felicity whispered, holding her hand, "for all of us who can't." Queenie had nodded.

And now she was at a crossroads.

"Ma'am," a young man approached her, "can I help you with anything? See we're about to march and—"

"I know that. That's why I'm here," Queenie declared, her tone regal. "Where do you want me?" She smiled and held up her sign.

' _Gay and Proud'_

The young man's eyes watered.

"You can march with me," he said, offering her his arm. She declined it—for now, anyway. Every step she was going to do herself and for everyone who couldn't. Felicity, who had not let her accident and confinement to a wheelchair take away an ounce of her fierce determination, was in the forefront of her mind.

"I might need your help later," she said. "I have to do this." He nodded in an understanding way.

"Stick by me. We'll be at the front."

And so she marched. The people around her joked that it was more of a run, but the threats they had faced leading up to this moment couldn't be ignored. They were only a hundred or so people—what could they really do in the face of adversity?

It wasn't until they had gone a little ways up 6th Avenue that Queenie realized the sound of the crowd behind her had gradually swelled. She turned around. The sight caused her to burst into tears.

Behind her, the march had grown. What had started out as a small group of hundred or so people was now over 2,000 strong. She looked at the young man next to her. Tears fell down his cheeks as well.

"I know," he simply said.

They were making a difference. It wasn't just for the people literally walking in her footsteps; it was everyone, years and decades from now, that would follow after her. _She_ was paving the path for future generations. And who knew? Maybe the changes she helped make in the Muggle world would reflect in the wizarding one.

With a new wave of energy, she held her sign higher and prouder.

And kept on marching.

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 **A/N 2 — This.** _ **This**_ **is the drabble I am most proud of in this collection. I know it's only the sixth one, but I'm calling it now. It's based off of the very real 1970 New York City Pride March. It was the first one, and just a year after the 1969 Stonewall riots.**

 **Also, in my mind for this story, Queenie** _ **was**_ **with Jacob, but he passed away at a somewhat early age. It was awhile later when she met Felicity and found love again.**

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Bisexual! Queenie (my personal headcanon for her)

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 496]


	7. We've Only Just Begun

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **We've Only Just Begun**

She held her girlfriend's hand and felt her heart explode into butterflies.

It was always the things that seemed small that made her feel like she was floating—a kiss, a touch. Sometimes all it took was a look and a smile, that Daphne knew was meant for just her, and she was lost in a flurry of emotions. She felt like she could fly as close as she wanted to the sun and never get burned.

 _Invincible_. That was what she was whenever Tracey was by her side.

"Hey," Tracey whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Are you okay?"

They sat together in one of the courtyards, ignoring the pointed gossip surrounding them. It was such a beautiful spring morning, birds chirped in the nearby trees and new blossoms filled the air with sweet fragrance. It was perfect and picturesque—making it easy for Daphne to ignore everything else.

With Tracey, she could stand when her family and the rest of the world wanted to tear her down.

She smiled. "Thank you," Daphne replied.

"For what?" Tracey frowned slightly in confusion, which Daphne thought looked incredibly adorable.

"For being here with me," she simply said. "You make everything easier."

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Daphne/Tracey

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 201]


	8. So You Want to Date a Mind Reader

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **So You Want to Date a Mind Reader**

" _Oh, don't worry, honey. Most guys think what you was thinking first time they see me."_

The words were right there, just on the tip of her tongue, when a thought flashed through the No-Maj— _Jacob's_ mind. It was funny in an odd sort of way, that this sweet man who was nothing like her was also _everything_ like her.

"You like both guys and girls?"

The words spilled out of her mouth unintentionally. Who could blame her? She had been so stunned! The Brit— _Newt_ , the name drifted in Tina's thoughts—looked at Jacob in shock. Although, she was pleased to see that it was just that: surprise. There was no revulsion or disgust on his features or in his mind. Tina was exasperated, as she so often was, but was also amused.

"You're a Legilimens?" Newt asked. Tina caught Jacob's confused expression and explained the term.

"She can read minds. It's a bit more complicated than that, but that's the gist."

Jacob looked horrified, and Queenie suddenly felt bad.

"I don't mean to," she explained nervously. "Sometimes I can't help but hear thoughts!"

"You must think I'm—" Jacob began explaining, only for Queenie to put an abrupt end to that thought track.

"What? No!" she denied vehemently. "I don't think that! All I think is that I was so sure I was the only one!"

Silence descended over the room. Queenie looked into Jacob's eyes and wished that he could read her mind. She wanted him to know that she thought he was sweet and wonderful and perfect—there was nothing wrong with him.

Slowly, he grinned and another thought flashed through his mind that she heard loud and clear. She smiled and felt herself blush.

"Queenie," he said for everyone else's benefit, "I don't think there's anyone quite like you."

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Bisexual! Queenie/Bisexual! Jacob

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 304]


	9. Snowflakes (That Stay on Her Eyelashes)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **Snowflakes (That Stay on Her Nose and Eyelashes)**

Alice looked up and laughed.

Lily frowned in confusion, her nose scrunching adorably. Her gloved hands clutched two cups of coffee; she handed one to Alice in bewildered silence. She tried to take a sip of her drink but had to do so between giggles.

"Okay, I'll bite," Lily said, sitting down on the park bench next to her. They were walking around the park and local neighborhoods, looking at the holiday lights and decorations.

Alice shook her head. "It's nothing," she replied. Lily raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Okay, it's just that— well, you look like a fairy queen," Alice explained. "You're so damn pretty and you have these snowflake clinging to your eyelashes. It's very ethereal."

She said that last bit with authority—as if she was the only person in existence who knew what ethereal fairy queens looked like. Lily laughed at her silliness and stole a quick kiss.

Lily was perfect, and every moment they had together, Alice counted herself blessed.

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Alice/Lily

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 164]


	10. Breakfast Conversations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **Breakfast Conversations**

"I'm gay, mate."

James looked over at his friend in surprise. They were one of the few people sitting in at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. It was still too early in the morning for most of their friends to be awake.

"Uh, okay?" he replied.

The statement turned into more of a question than he originally intended. Sirius suddenly decided to pour himself a glass of orange juice. James set down his fork, giving his friend his full attention.

"Is it okay?" Sirius asked stiffly. His shoulders were hunched, and he refused to look James in the eye.

"Yeah, of course, it is!" James said firmly. "I'm just confused a little. I asked if you wanted maple syrup with your pancakes, and then you said that."

"Oh."

There was a beat and then—

"You were really lost in thought, weren't you?"

"Uh huh."

"You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying since we left the dorm."

"Nope."

James grinned. "Well, good for you, mate," he said. "I'm proud of you. Now, do you want maple syrup or not?"

"Yes, please."

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Gay! Sirius

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 185]


	11. Confused

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **Confused**

Draco was staring at them from across the table, and Daphne could feel the disgust rolling off him in waves. It didn't matter, though—not when Millicent was there with her hand gently resting on Daphne's knee. _Merlin,_ it was hard to focus.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Millicent finally snapped. Everyone around them suddenly found the food on their plates incredibly interesting.

"Nothing," he replied while continuing to stare at them. Daphne raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked icily. "Because it really feels like you are trying to tell us something through angry telepathy."

Blaise, who was sitting on the other side of Daphne, snorted with laughter. Malfoy ignored him.

"It's just that Millicent used to date Blaise," Malfoy replied with a sneer. "And Daphne used to date me. I just don't get it."

"About which part? When I broke up with you because I was gay?" Daphne muttered under her breath. "Or the part where I broke up with you because you were a jerk _and_ because I was gay?"

She didn't say that quietly enough, though. Malfoy glared at her, while Blaise choked on his drink. Millicent just rolled her eyes. She was used to Daphne's dry wit by this point.

"No," he said shortly. "I don't get how Millicent isn't gay like you. I mean, she's dating you now. She can't still like men. Doesn't she have to choose? Or is she just confused."

Daphne's temper flared, and she knew Millicent was reacting in the same way. This line of questions was getting so damn old; she was sick of it. Before she could reply, however, someone else intervened. Tracey—Daphne's best friend and saving grace—walked up to them with her girlfriend, Susan Bones. She leaned across the table and awkwardly patted Draco's shoulder.

"There, there," she said mockingly. "It's okay. They're not confused… But I think _you_ are!"

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Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Gay! Daphne/ Bisexual! Millicent

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 315]


	12. Always and Forever

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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 **A very Drarry fic for Ana (obscurialdefenseclub) *hearts* I hope you like it!**

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 **Always and Forever**

Draco ran because that's what he did. (Even though he knew he shouldn't.)

He stopped and thought for a second. There was a monster in the Forbidden Forest, and Potter wasn't behind him. (He really hated him.) He was such a show-off and rude. Draco was still salty about Potter rejecting his offer of friendship. That didn't change the fact that there was a monster in the Forest, and Potter was in trouble.

Perhaps, just this once, he could run with a purpose.

He looked down at Fang. "Help me find Hagrid!" he pleaded.

The giant boarhound barked and took off with Draco right behind him.

.oOo.

He should not have said it.

The professors herded the students back to their dorms. By now, Potter and his friends would be in the Headmaster's office, discussing Filch's cat. Why was Potter always in the middle of the most dangerous things that happened at Hogwarts?

Draco thought of the look on the Mudblood's face when he had taunted her about the writing on the wall. It surprisingly hurt, but not as much as when he thought about Potter's expression. The anger and resentment were forever burned into his mind, and he didn't know why.

All he knew was that he shouldn't have said it.

.oOo.

Draco was jealous.

He wouldn't admit it—not in a million years. He would never tell another soul that whenever he was around Potter, his heart beat furiously. He could not explain what he felt, except that is was kind of like envy. So yes, he was jealous. _That's_ why, after all, he kept teasing and mocking Harry and his friends. It was because he was jealous.

Despite the fuss he made, he really didn't mind getting punched by Granger. Not when he got to be near Potter. Whenever he was around the Gryffindor, he felt things.

Because he was jealous.

It made perfect sense. Obviously.

.oOo.

"I hate you, Draco." He rolled his eyes. Once again, Pansy was being overly dramatic. "You know that, right?"

"Yes, Pansy. I believe you may have mentioned that once or twice," he drawled. She scowled.

"If you're not going to dance with me, I'll ask someone else," she said. Pansy abruptly stood up, and Draco made no move to stop her. Before she went too far, she threw a parting barb over her shoulder.

"Looks like Potter's not having any luck either," Pansy said scathingly. "It looks like you finally have something in common. Have fun being miserable together."

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. Thankfully, Pansy had left before she could see, or she would have never let him live it down. One word stood out above the rest.

 _Together._

He looked across the dance floor and saw Potter sitting with Weasley at a table. Both of them looked thoroughly miserable, but all Draco saw was Po— no, _Harry_. All Draco saw was Harry.

And suddenly, a whole lot of things made sense.

"Shite," he muttered.

.oOo.

He couldn't keep this up for long. Daphne and Blaise were getting suspicious.

He walked the corridors, as a newly appointed member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and tried to ignore the blatant rule breaking around him—mostly in the form of Harry's little study group. Merlin, wasn't Granger— _Hermione_ (he had decided to make the effort to say Harry's friends' names, at least to himself) supposed to be smart? They were all idiots. Did they honestly think they were being sneaky?

" _Hem, hem._ "

Draco forced himself to breathe and turned to face Umbridge.

"Hello, Professor," he said politely. She got straight to the point.

"Have you found them yet?"

 _You mean besides the dozen people from three different Houses all sneaky about together in the same rarely used part of the castle?_

"No, I haven't, Professor," he replied evenly without a hint of sarcasm.

 _But if they don't start acting more careful, they will be found—and there won't be anything they can do._

.oOo.

They were on opposite sides of the war, and it was tearing Draco apart.

He worked on the Vanishing Cabinet tirelessly. What other choice did he have? He either failed—which would get him killed and his mother tortured—or succeeded. Accomplishing his task set by the Dark Lord, though, would see a lot of good people hurt and Dumbledore dead.

Draco didn't want that.

It wasn't just thinking about how Harry would judge him if he knew what he was truly doing. (Oh yes, Draco knew about the Gryffindor's attempts to catch him doing something evil and dastardly; Harry was as subtle as a lightning rod in a storm.) Sure, the thought of what Harry would think of him kept him in line during the year. As the months passed on, however, Draco found that he was growing an inner moral compass even without thinking about the Gryffindor.

They all had parts to play, though. Harry was destined to be the hero, and Draco was supposed to be the villain. It grated against his fledgling ethics. Draco could only hope that if he didn't do anything too bad, he would be forgiven.

.oOo.

Draco could have cast lethal curses, but he didn't. Harry did.

For once, their rules were reversed. He was the victim and the Golden Boy was the villain. But instead of experiencing vindication or triumph—something twelve-year-old Draco would have felt—all he felt was heartbreak and regret.

.oOo.

Any other person would have been petty and immediately sold out the man that broke their heart and tried to kill them.

Draco looked at Harry's face— _Merlin, what the hell happened to him?_ —and was proud that he was no longer that kind of person.

It took some fast thinking, but Draco had a plan. No one was certain that this was Harry, despite Hermione and Ron being with him. His face was so swollen that no one could see his iconic scar. It Draco wasn't sure—if he could get them to wait and postpone calling the Dark Lord—he could buy them some time.

"Is it him?" Aunt Bellatrix demanded.

Draco peered closer at Harry's face.

"I don't know," he said, forcing his voice to sound uncertain. "It's just— It's hard to tell."

.oOo.

"Thank you."

The smoke and panic reduced his voice to a whisper. Ron was arguing with Harry about saving him and Gregory, who had already disappeared. Hermione was glaring at Ron, while Harry _defended_ him. He coughed, trying to clear his throat.

"Thank you."

He repeated it again, and this time everyone heard him clearly. Ron and Hermione froze, shocked expressions on their faces. Harry just looked at him with a carefully neutral expression.

"For what?" he asked.

"For saving my life tonight," Draco said, his heart pounded furiously against his ribcage. "And for all of the times before that."

Then it was as if the floodgates opened, and words and emotions poured out of him.

"Thank you for being you. You make me a better person, and I don't deserve to even be around you. Although, I tried really hard over the years to be close to you. I'm sorry I was such an arrogant, ungrateful, cruel, selfish prat. I'm sorry I couldn't protect the DA longer. I never wanted to be on that tower with Dumbledore. You're so _dumb_ and such a hero, and you're going to get yourself killed. If that happened, I couldn't— I just _couldn't_."

Hermione gasped, but Draco's eyes remained locked on Harry. He was telling the truth. In little ways that culminated in big moments, Harry had saved his life countless times. Draco wasn't perfect—far from it—but he was a good person because of Harry.

Draco was a better man because of him.

In the blink of an eye, Harry was suddenly standing in front of him. Slowly, as if waiting for him to turn away, he reached up and gently caressed Draco's cheek.

"Are you saying what I think you're trying to say?" Harry asked softly.

Draco nodded. He furiously wiped at the tears silently falling down his cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

Harry leaned in, but it was Draco who closed the distance between them. Their lips met and while it was cliché, Draco felt like he was in heaven. The distant sounds of battles won and lost rang throughout the castle, and fiendfyre raged behind the closed door. Despite everything that was going wrong, _this_ was right.

They parted, but not very far apart. Harry grabbed Draco's hand.

"Come with us," he said. Draco instinctively balked at the suggestion, but Harry persisted.

"Come with us. Promise that you'll stay with me."

Logically, Draco knew that he should go with them. There wasn't anything left for him on this side of the war—no image that he had to uphold. His mother was still out there, but they would find a way of saving her together. If he asked nicely, he knew they would help. There was nothing left for him. But beyond that, it was the right thing to do.

Draco wouldn't normally have had the courage to take this step, but maybe he could borrow some of Harry's bravery. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and held Harry's hand tighter.

"Always and forever. I'm not leaving you."

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Draco/Harry

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 1556]


	13. Little Spitfire

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **A/N — In this story, Rowena is a trans woman. Helga's sexual orientation is fluid.**

* * *

 **Little Spitfire**

"That is not _her_ name!"

Rowena stopped in her tracks, listening to her girlfriend yell at someone behind her closed office door. Her voice still echoed down the hallway, and Rowena was thankful that they had not yet invited students to the school yet. It sounded like they still had some problems to fix that went beyond how to sort incoming pupils.

"Helga, please. You misunderstood me—"

She was surprised—although she probably should not have been—that the petite Founder was at odds with Salazar. Internally, she debated about whether to stay or leave. She could always come back in five minutes; it was wrong to eavesdrop. She should not listen, but Helga was not making an effort to lower her voice.

" _Do not use that tone with me._ "

Rowena flinched and imagined Salazar doing the same. Helga rarely grew angry, but this was beyond anything she had ever heard. Her girlfriend's voice dripped with icy fury and righteous wrath. Whatever mistake the other Founder had made was apparently unforgivable in Helga's eyes—and it apparently had something to do with _her_.

"Why do you not let me offer him the potion? I am sure it would help Rowan—"

"Rowena! _Her_ name is _Rowena_. How many times do we have to tell you that? She has informed you multiple times that she does not need or want your help in this matter. I am going to support her because I _love_ her…even though she should know not to eavesdrop."

Despite the situation, Rowena felt herself grin as the door swung open to reveal an irate Helga and surprised Salazar. She strode forward and pulled Helga into a hug, ignoring the other Founder.

"How did you know she was there?" Salazar asked dumbly. Helga rolled her eyes.

"I knew because I always know," she replied simply. She looked up into Rowena's eyes, her past ire forgotten. "Are you ready for our picnic?"

Rowena smiled. She held Helga's hand and gently brought it to her lips for a quick kiss.

"For you, my dear, I am ready to take on the world," she replied sincerely.

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Trans! Rowena/Fluid! Helga

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 188]


	14. Watch This Madness (Just Like Magic)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **Watch This Madness (Just Like Magic)**

It was hard for Hermione to _not_ hear what they were saying about her. After all, they weren't exactly being quiet. She walked down the Entrance Hall stairs, hand-in-hand with her Yule Ball date, and wondered if it was worth them now knowing everything.

" _Who's that?"_

" _Isn't that Granger? What's a bookworm doing with the Champion from Beauxbatons?"_

"— _ugly—"_

"— _she's crazy to go with her—"_

"— _I asked her, ya know. I could have saved her from—"_

"— _pity date—"_

"Don't listen to them, ma chérie," Fleur said while glaring at the gossipers. They quickly scattered, and Hermione felt her lips twitch into a small smile. "Their little world has been turned upside down, and they are not worth your anxiety."

"Has anyone ever told you that your French accent is really adorable and sexy?"

Hermione blushed as the out-of-character and off-topic words spilled from her mouth; Fleur just grinned wickedly. The French girl leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

"Is there anything, in particular, you would like to hear me say?"

Hermione just blushed harder, her thoughts running away from her.

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Luna/Hermione

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 179]


	15. More Breakfast Conversations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **A/N—Yes, I do realize that June is almost over (another hour or so in my time zone), and we are only halfway through this collection! I blame being sick for over a week and not writing _anything_ during that time. Anyway, I will finish this collection in the next few days. Who doesn't mind celebrating Pride just a little bit longer? ;)**

* * *

 **More Breakfast Conversations**

"I'm gay, mate."

James dropped his fork on his plate and tried to not roll his eyes. They were one of the few people sitting in the Great Hall; it was still early. He was glad that his friends trusted him enough to tell him, but he just wanted an answer that made sense when he asked a question.

"Okay, first Sirius; now, Remus," he muttered under his breath, although not quickly enough.

"What?"

He looked up to see Remus' stunned face. James opened his mouth to explain, but abruptly stopped. The werewolf looks shocked and a little scared, but also _hopeful_. James grinned.

"Oh, you heard me," he teased. "So are you going to ask him out?" Remus shook his head.

"What? Oh, I couldn't— I couldn't do that," he stuttered.

James shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's a shame," he said. "Because he won't shut up about you and your _'beautiful eyes'_ and _'brave scars.'_ Honestly, now I know how you guys felt when I talked about Lily all the time; it's annoying. Anyway, did you want Pumpkin juice or water?"

Remus just stared at him, stunned into silence.

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Gay! Remus

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 188]


	16. Crushes

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **Crushes**

"You have a crush on someone? Who is it?"

Marlene looked at Alice, exasperated and annoyed—but mostly with herself. She shouldn't have said anything, but she was tired of living with a secret. Tomorrow, she could go back to silently suffering; today, though, she would talk about it.

"No," she replied.

"What?" Alice exclaimed, setting down her book. "You can't just say that, and then not tell me who it is!"

Of course, she could not tell. It would make it more real if she did. But maybe that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She liked who she liked; that wasn't wrong.

"Do I know them?" Alice pressed.

Marlene looked down at her textbook and gathered her thoughts. She could feel her friend's impatience, but Alice would have to wait a minute. A minute passed, then two. Finally, Marlene took a deep breath.

"Lily."

There was a beat of silence.

"Cool," Alice replied. "I thought it was Sirius for a second."

Marlene snorted. "Right," she drawled. "Somehow I don't think we would have ever worked out. You know, since he is pining after Remus and all."

She looked up and saw that Alice was grinning.

"Minor details," she teased. She closed her book and leaned across the table. "Now, can you tell me why you like her? I'm curious."

Marlene didn't have to think about it for more than a second. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She mimicked Alice, closing her text and leaning forward, and smiled.

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Queer! Marlene

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 248]


	17. Coming Out

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **Coming Out**

Neville paced back-and-forth in the empty Common Room. He was having quite the debate with himself. He had two crushes, and he wasn't sure what to do.

"I don't get it," he said to himself, anxiously wringing his hands. "I like Hannah, but I also like Harry. Am I overthinking it? Can I be attracted to both guys and girls? Is that even a thing? _Merlin_ , why is everyone so hot!"

"Global warming is a real problem, mate."

He turned in a panic. Fred and George Weasley stood in the portrait entrance, grinning at him.

George—or maybe it was Fred—continued.

"You could also be bisexual, which is a real thing. I would relax and ask Harry— I mean, ask _one of them_ out. Remember there's a Hogsmeade trip next weekend. That sounds like a good idea, right, oh brother of mine?"

Fred—it was probably Fred—nodded.

"Yeah, easy-peasy. Well, good night, Neville. And remember: Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness!"

The Twins disappeared up the stairs to their dorm, and Neville was left speechless in their wake.

* * *

Prompt ( _Thirty Days of the Gays [challenge] — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): Bisexual! Neville

[word count, not including title and author's notes: 183]


End file.
